100 Themes and Shinigami
by Malaria Vincent
Summary: The deviantART '100 Themes Challenge' with each theme focused on one or more of the Shinigami. Rating subject to change with theme.
1. Theme 1: Introduction

A/N: I'll be doing all 100 Themes but I'm not sure how long it'll take me. Each theme will be about one or more of the Shinigami, because I'm a fangirl like that. ^^ Either comment here or on my deviantART account (that's the one I check most often).

Theme 1: Introduction

"Mr. Slingby." 

Eric picked his head up, catching sight of his supervisor standing at his office door. The man did not look happy. 

"Mr. Spears." He was always careful when he acknowledged him. He quickly pushed Bruce (the flying staple-remover and black binder clip dragon he'd been making) into his open desk drawer. It was then that he caught sight of something near William's left side. As though reading his mind, the Reaper stepped to the side, nearly pulling the younger man beside him over. 

"This is Alan Humphries," William told him, looking down at the man currently clinging to his jacket sleeve. 

"Wow," Eric stood slowly, afraid he'd frighten him, and asked, "What happened to him?" It seemed like a harsh question but Eric had never really been one to think before he spoke. It was an annoying trait that William had only recently gotten used to. Granted, he couldn't fault him much for it this time. In all honesty, it was a completely justified question. This kid, Alan, was a wreck. 

Ripped, blood-stained clothes clung to his dangerously thin frame, dark hair hung in now-matted strings against high cheekbones, setting off the brilliant green of his eyes. Eric blinked, resisting the urge to shake his head. "He's…" 

"One of us." William finished for him. "He's quite fortunate, actually. Who's to say what would've happened to him if he'd been allowed to simply go through the system like the others." 

"Like the others…sir?" Eric didn't care for the way he'd said that. 

William looked him straight in the eyes then, something the man hardly ever did. "His schoolmates." 

Eric froze. A recent slaying at a London University had thrown the office into chaos. The death count wasn't overly high but it was still substantial the last time he'd checked it. All of that being caused by a single human was…unheard of. "That," Eric started, then swallowed, "That was him?"  
\

William reached up and pried Alan's hands from his sleeve. "Yes, and until we can figure out a more permanent arrangement, you'll be looking after him." 

Eric did shake his head then. Had William finally lost his mind? "Sir…" 

"We'll bring him a new suit within the hour." William said, turning to leave. He paused and gently pushed Alan back to sit in the chair just inside the door. The man bounced slightly as he sat down. It didn't seem like he knew where he was. 

"William," Eric said more sharply than he'd really meant to. "You can't just leave him with me." 

"I can and I am." William placed a hand on the door frame, blocking Eric from trying to follow him. "He's in shock right now, Slingby. When he recovers, he'll have a lot of questions. I need him with someone I know can answer them." 

Eric looked back at the frail man in the chair to his right. Alan's eyes were blank and fixed on a single spot on the floor in front of him, as though he wasn't really seeing anything. His right arm was hanging over the armrest as if there were no bones in it at all. He still didn't like the idea but the man probably wasn't much of a threat in his current state. 

"Fine." Eric sighed. "Just promise me you'll get him some actual help. Looks like he needs it." 

"Our staff psychologist will see him tomorrow." William dropped his hand and walked away. 

Eric watched him leave then shut the door carefully. When Alan didn't react to the sound, he crouched down by the chair. He'd seen people in far worse shape before and had been a bit cold with them. It was just how he was, he'd guessed, but something about this kid made him want to be a little more careful. After all, he couldn't be much older than 17. 

"Hey," he said gently. "I'm Eric." 

Alan blinked slowly and shifted his gaze to the blonde Shinigami crouched at his side. He didn't trust his voice enough to speak yet but he inclined his head a bit to show he understood. 

"You'll be fine, kid." Eric smiled as he stood and started back to his desk. He doubted Alan was in the mood to talk much. He'd only taken half a step when a hand closed firmly around his wrist. Eric turned, catching Alan's gaze. The look in his eyes reminded him of a lost puppy hoping his new owner wouldn't kick him like the old one did. 

"Geez…" Eric sighed and rubbed at the back of his head with his free hand. He'd never been good with emotional situations. He stepped closer to Alan and crouched back down, letting the man throw his arms around him. Eric tensed at the sudden contact then relaxed and wrapped his arms around Alan's ribcage. He felt cold to the touch and he was starting to shake. 

"I-I…didn't mean to hurt him." Alan's breath hitched and he pressed his forehead against Eric's shoulder. He sounded very weak. "I don't know what happened." 

_You slashed his throat open._ Eric wanted to remind him of that but stopped himself. For some reason, Alan struck him as a perfectionist and people like that (when they did snap) tended to block out the memory. 

And could he really blame him? There was no way the man could handle a job like this with that memory on his mind every time he went out. Eric stayed crouched by him, letting him shake and cry as the shock wore off. 

Once he'd recovered, William would handle where he was placed in the division and Eric probably wouldn't see him much after that. For some reason, the thought of leaving the youngest Shinigami they'd had to date alone bothered him. Maybe…maybe he should ask William if he could look after him. Just for a few days, to make sure he'd be okay. 

Yeah. That sounded like a good idea. 

"Hey," Eric caught him by the upper arms and gently pushed him back to look him in the eyes. "You'll be just fine." 

Alan rested his hands on Eric's arms, looking back at him. He seemed so sure of that. "You think?" he asked, voice shaking slightly. 

"Sure. Everyone here's real cool. And I'll be lookin' out for ya." He winked, smiling and feeling strangely at ease. 

Alan ducked his head, trying to hide the fact that he was smiling faintly. He was still shaking, everything ached and he still wasn't sure what had happened or even where he was…but Eric seemed so calm and sure that everything would turn out fine. 

For possibly the first time in his life, he felt safe.

A/N: Well, here's the first one. It's not easy to write for these two, especially early on in their careers. But…well, here it is.


	2. Theme 2: Love

A/N: People seemed to like the first one so…here's another. Also, if enough people like a certain theme, I might expand on it later, when the first 100 are done. Comment with…I don't know '+1 continue' or something. I'll tally up the votes at the end of the first quarter (Theme 25)

Go to my deviantART page for the music selections for each theme.

**Theme 2: Love  
**

Grell Sutcliff stumbled into the office Christmas day, shaking the snow out of her hair. Walking through the drifts in high heels probably wasn't the smartest thing she'd ever done but she'd always been one to sacrifice comfort for fashion.

It wasn't that she didn't look forward to the Christmas season it was just that she'd always felt rather…left out. While everyone else in the office was exchanging gifts and cards, she'd hole up on the third floor, pretending to work. No one ever gave her anything anyway, so why embarrass herself by being a wallflower all evening?

Everyone had been rather clear about not really caring much about her one way or another. If she had a nickel for every time she'd been thrown out of Will's office…well, she wouldn't need this job.

It was strangely quiet in the hallways as she walked, the clicking of her heels sounding far too loud in the silence. Not at all like the previous years, when she was hard pressed to hear her own thoughts at times. Grell paused outside the door, sighing. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered at all.

She stopped short in the doorway, staring. Shaking her head, she checked the name on the door to be sure it was really her office then returned to gaping at the space before her. The entire place had been freshly cleaned. There were new, bright red curtains over the windows and two small bookshelves had been added, stocked with her favourite works.

There were no piles of paperwork on her desk anymore. That may have surprised her the most. Every scrap of paper was gone. Instead, there were gifts.

Grell stepped forward, certain she was dreaming or at least in the wrong office. But no, the heart and skull designs on the back of the door were uniquely hers. She closed the door and crossed the room to the desk, throwing her coat into her chair.

A simple note card had been set in front of the boxes, written in a neat script that could only be Will's: For Miss Sutcliff.

A red plush and fleece throw (from Eric), a box of caramel and pecan clusters (from Ronald), a bottle of the Razorblade Roses perfume she adored (from Alan), and a set of black raspberry scented bath beads, lotion, body spray, shower gel and hand cream (from Will).

Grell giggled, pressing her fingers against her lips to stifle the sound.

"Hey, you found 'em." said a cheerful voice from her now-open doorway. Ronald Knox leaned against the doorframe holding a small tray of cake.

"Ronald~!" Grell yipped. Her eyes fell to the trey he held and she asked, "For me?"

"Well, more for them." The blonde tilted his head as Alan leaned around the other side of the doorframe, clutching another small tray. Eric leaned around him and waved as William stepped around Ronald.

"Well," the Reaper cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses with the hand not holding the plate of iced sugar cookies. "It seems we've been a bit…harsh on you these last few months. We simply felt it was time we apologised."

"Sorry, Grell." Eric straightened up, rubbing at the back of his head.

Alan scuffed his dress shoe on the floor, murmuring, "Yeah…sorry."

Ronald stepped into the office and held out the tray, "Things've been kinda rough here lately…and you always hide in your office 'round this time of year. We figured you could use some company."

Grell bounced, hands clasped tight in front of her. She wanted to talk, squeal, say 'thank you', anything but no words would come. It was a rare occasion indeed that Grell Sutcliff was completely speechless. Eventually, she set her hands in a heart over her chest, blinking back tears and hugging Ronald as he set the tray down on her desk.

Alan followed him with Eric pushing William in by the shoulders. Grell squealed quietly, hugging herself and bouncing around them.

As soon as the tray was out of his hands, Alan reached out and hugged her, prompting a soft squeak from the redhead. When he let go, he smirked and pointed back over her shoulder. Grell turned to find Eric standing awkwardly behind her. He gave her a nervous smile and moved like he was just going to shake her hand. He paused there for a second and then shrugged. "Oh, what the hell?" he said, picking her up and hugging her.

Grell wrapped her arms around his neck. She was laughing now despite her tears and kicking to be let down. She latched onto William then, resting her head on his shoulder and finally managed a slightly squeaky, "I love you guys~."

A/N: They're so mean to Grell normally. I thought she really needed some love. Before anyone says anything: I refer to Grell as a 'she' out of respect. It's just good manners to refer to a transsexual person as the gender they want to be recognised as. I know she's still physically male.


	3. Theme 3: Light

**A/N:** I had _no idea_ what to do with this one so this is what you're getting.

Go to my deviantART page for the music selections for each theme.

**Theme 3 – Light**

"What are you smirking about?" Ronald asked as he fell into his chair. 

"Just thinking." Eric spun his own chair as he spoke, snapping his head around to avoid getting dizzy. "Tomorrow's our anniversary." 

"What?" 

Eric stopped the chair and rested his forearms on his knees. "You'll have been here a year tomorrow." 

Ronald sat up. "Really? Doesn't feel like it." 

"Oh, yes it does." Eric murmured, flipping through a long-neglected pile of papers on the edge of his desk. 

"Hey!" 

"I'm just saying you make quite a first impression." 

Ronald smirked. "Like you don't?" 

A soft scoffing sound from the doorway caught their attention. "Please. I still have the bruise." Alan leaned against the doorframe, rubbing at his arm. 

"I'm a puncher when I laugh." Eric shrugged. "If you weren't funny, you wouldn't have that. Take it as a compliment." 

"Maybe you're just easily amused." 

Eric stifled a laugh against his hand but Ronald made it a point to punch the brunette hard in the forearm as he walked past. Alan cracked him in the head with the file he'd been carrying. 

Their co-worker sighed, collapsing into his chair and looking over at Eric. "Just how many versions of you are there up here?" 

Ronald laughed softly, crumpling up a sheet of paper and throwing it into the wastebasket on the other side of the room. He still remembered asking William that question when he'd first arrived. It wasn't like he was trying to be a punk. He just wasn't used to seeing so many people in suits. 

He remembered thinking _and I have to work here_? He'd never last a week. The place looked so…dreary to him. Nothing like the bright sunlit world he was used to. Heavy grey curtains covered the windows and the only noticeable light came from the flickering overheads. 

His co-workers weren't much better. One was…kind of a freak with blood-red hair and high-heeled shoes. (He'd kept calling her 'Grell-iett'.) One looked like he belonged in one of Shakespeare's tragedies and his partner, well…his hair was about the only interesting thing about him. Just overworked people in a plain, drab office building. No fun at all. 

He should fix that. 

Ronald hadn't slept that first night in the residence halls. He was too busy planning. Early the next morning, he snuck in through one of the upper windows (the one with the busted alarm) and got to work. His grandfather had taught him a little about wiring and he'd picked up a sense of light and shadow from his painter mother, so it was surprisingly easy to rearrange things a bit on the main floor. The heavy curtains had to go if he had any chance of staying awake here. 

With the curtains gone, the light of the sunrise flooded the main room from the floor-length windows that reached the upper level. Ronald leaned on the railing, looking down into the now brightly-lit entrance hall. It felt so much better in there already. Much more…alive. 

Down below, the front doors swung open, revealing William and some of the other officers. One of them (what was his name? Alex? Alan?) stepped forward, looking around like a lost puppy. For a moment, Ronald wondered if he'd faint. 

"What on Earth…?" William stepped around him, adjusting his glasses with his Death Scythe. 

"It's so bright…" Alan looked around them as though he'd never really seen the place before. 

"Hey, guys!" called a cheerful voice from the upper level. "Up here." 

Everyone looked up, finding their newest recruit standing at the railing. Ronald pulled a gloved hand through his hair, smiling. "Thought this place could use a little light." 

Ronald looked around at his friends, smiling faintly at the memory. He really did make quite a first impression.

**A/N:** Kinda seems like something Ronald might do. Like, it can't be just him, he has to involve the entire building.


	4. Theme 4: Dark

**A/N:** Written very quickly on a bad day so…no promises. And **slightly higher rating this time**.

Go to my deviantART page for the music selections for each theme.

**Theme 4: Dark**

_The fight had only lasted a few minutes. Without realising it, the two had moved closer and closer with each insult they gave. Suddenly, Sebastian grabbed William by the tie, shoving him back against the cold brick wall of the neighbouring building. The sudden warmth of the demon's tongue playing in his mouth stole the fight from the Reaper's body and he twisted his right hand into the fabric of Sebastian's jacket. The butler responded with a playful bite, barely breaking the skin. William twisted away in pain, feeling warm blood running from the corner of his mouth and clawing his fingers against the brick, fighting the urge to lash out. Every instinct, every logical part of his mind told him to fight, to run but standing there, shaking and panting with that creature...that devil pressed against him... Logic didn't exist anymore._

But logic did exist in the bright light of day.

"Pathetic," William snarled through gritted teeth. "Honestly."

The low, flickering light in the washroom stung his eyes and he momentarily wished for a place to lie down. He eventually settled for perching on the edge of the cracked tub and fixing his gaze on the floor. His body still ached and as much as he hated to admit it, he was slightly dizzy. It had been quite a while since he'd done anything like that. Well, to be perfectly honest, he'd never done anything quite like that.

And here, of all places. A falling-down hovel on cheapside where he was a bit skittish to even walk across the floor for fear it would simply collapse. But at least there was no conceivable way he'd be found out. In a neighbourhood like this, the sight of blood was commonplace.

Pulling his suit collar away from his throat revealed dark bruises wrapping almost delicately around his neck. Barely healed scratches and bite marks covered his collarbone and the gash in the back of his hand was only now starting to close.

Another wave of revulsion hit him at the memory of the previous night. Just what the hell had he been thinking?

William had never been given to his emotions. In fact, he made it a point to ignore them whenever possible. But something about Sebastian seemed to drag them out of him – all of the pain and anger he'd spent years bottling up being slowly bled from his body.

The tension between them had been stronger that night, nearly suffocating. Every instinct told William to shrug him off, get away from him before he did something he'd regret. But standing against him, both wrapped in the comforting darkness of the night-shrouded city had made him forget the reason he was outside in the first place. He fought against the wracking shudder brought on by the memory. He could still feel the warmth of the demon's hands against his chilled skin.

That cold personality had always been something he relied on. To have a creature like that touch him was revolting. The very thought that a demon could make him forget himself so easily, call such long-hidden emotion to the surface – melt the ice, so to speak – was simply…sickening.

William shivered at the memory, shrugging out of his jacket and rolling up his sleeves. The cuts were still there, angry red lines criss-crossing pale skin, marking him as nothing but a toy. He almost thought there would be burn marks as well. Sebastian was far and away the only person who could make him feel like that. The all-too-real sensation of the ice melting, every mental hold easily broken, and the demon's touch searing the flesh underneath was enough to bring another wave of nausea.

"_But let's face facts, William. You're the only one who poses a threat to me." _

It was said so casually. But he remembered the feeling of pain…of fear that hit him then. It was unlike anything he'd felt before.

"Maybe…" he whispered, carefully avoiding looking in the mirror as he adjusted his glasses. It had become more of a nervous habit in the past few days. "I'm the only one who's a threat to you…so you take it upon yourself to break me." Keeping his voice soft, a barely audible whisper, kept him from noticing how it shook.

Being controlled by anyone was never a fun experience for him but being submissive to a _creature_ like that turned his stomach. Being forced…being pressed against the cold brick and held there by someone he truly despised…was a rush. And he hated himself for that.

It really was disgusting. A Reaper like him reduced to…this. Hopelessly addicted to something he knew had the power to kill him. And Sebastian really was like a drug. Something strong enough to make him forget everything he thought he was, pull him down into the darkness…and make him enjoy it.

But he'd go out there. He'd go back to work and be his usual cold self, barking orders to the slackers and always looking just a little bit stressed. And no one would ever suspect it.

It was all a game between them, after all. A very tiring game.

But just because he was tired of the game didn't mean he could stop playing.

**A/N:** They'd be a horrible couple. Really.


End file.
